


Learning

by kayr0ss



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Avatrice, F/F, Just cute stuff nothing too big, Standard Ava Swearing lol, soft fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28700262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayr0ss/pseuds/kayr0ss
Summary: Ava has learned how to walk, run, fight, and survive.But there's one more thing she's learned how to do, without knowing that Beatrice was the one that taught her.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 21
Kudos: 198





	Learning

Walking was a quick enough thing to learn. 

It was out of necessity—trying not to get blown up and all—and she was thankful to get herself out of the crossfire between… whoever the fuck was fighting back there. She wobbled a little, finding stability in the crumbling walls of what looked to be one of Spain’s more dated churches. Despite the danger, it was fascinating to feel the jagged surface of the stone, smoothened over by time and passage but still sharp against her skin. The concept of ‘sensation’ was new, but there were more screams and another explosion and if this wasn’t a dream (which she doubted), she had better get out and away— _ fast. _

\--

Running was less of a learning experience and more of an absolute joy. Ava ran, and ran, and  _ ran _ , and she couldn’t believe that she was running and  _ that _ in itself only pushed her to run even  _ faster. _ There was sand under her feet, and the feeling of air whipping along her hair, face, and features by virtue of the movement she was now lucky enough to initiate herself.

The freedom to move was intoxicating. 

She didn’t even tire out. Was it the odd superpowers or the sheer force of her adrenaline? She decided she didn’t care—she wasn’t going to stop moving. In the next moment she was flat on her back, peering up at the stars with her own two eyes. The clouds were kind enough to part for her that evening; maybe they knew?  _ Awesome.  _ She giggled to herself, grinning while taking in the sound of waves rushing into the beach and the feeling of sand on her fingers, always in motion. She didn’t even remember how it felt anymore—sand, or even just  _ feeling _ —and this meeting felt like the first time all over again. She wanted to close her eyes to savor the sensations, but the stars were too beautiful to ignore.

Every second could slip away at any moment.

\--

Fighting was both exhilarating and terrifying and decidedly something she was  _ not  _ good at. 

But once again, necessity proved itself a great teacher because  _ no _ she didn’t feel like getting decked by Lilith another fucking time, thank you very much!

“Again,” Mother Superion commanded with the crack of her cane.

Lilith bore down on her with more satisfaction than Ava was comfortable with, but when the first two hits phased through without harm to her person, she couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that broke through.

“You look confident.” The taller woman had a razor-sharp tongue.

Ava grinned. “I guess you could say I’m simply un _ phased. _ ”

There was a thud, a very loud “Shit!”, and a full two seconds before her brain registered that  _ ouch that hit landed! _

\--

She could walk, run, sprint, and even  _ climb _ by now but by God and all the saints there was just no beating Beatrice was there?

Ava landed on the mat with a heavy thud and a sigh of defeat. 

At least Beatrice seemed more interested in her actually  _ learning _ some of these moves instead of beating her up for the heck of it. Her opponent graced her with a soft smile and a welcoming hand to help her back up.

“Give me a minute.” Ava chuckled, gaze steady and careful. “Great view from down here!” 

Beatrice leveled her with a flat glare, sighing exasperatedly as she took back her hand. 

“If you’re not going to take this seriously then get up yourself.”

“Hey!” Ava complained, scrambling back upwards despite the ache in her hip. The thought of whether she had meant that quip or not passed by too quickly for her register or remember; especially since Beatrice had gotten back into form and was sending another flurry of fists her way.

\--

Falling off a cliff was  _ not _ something Ava wanted to learn what the  _ fuck _ Mary!

\--

The fear was chased away the moment the light hit her eyes. She could  _ breathe _ again, finally outside the claustrophobic weight of a twenty-foot block of concrete, and her mind was a jumble of  _ air _ , and  _ relief _ , and  _ Beatrice  _ and  _ freedom _ . There were hands at her face, coming up to soothe away every worry she had burdened herself with. Brown, searching eyes looked at her with a voice that sang ‘ _ it’s going to be okay _ .’

And it was. 

Because Beatrice said so.

Between then and now—she knew she learned another new thing. It was neither powering up the halo nor facing one’s fears. It was something else. Something she couldn’t name.

It was there when in the room as they read the story together, and in every bruise and cut that Beatrice had dutifully tended to. It was there in every tap on the shoulder and gentle reminder, and nod of reassurance and utmost belief sent her way.

The word this  _ new thing  _ eluded her, try as she might, and— _ ugh. _

She’d think about it later.

\--

They were huddled up in a safehouse, recovering from the aftermath of the Vatican which, to quote herself much earlier in the day,  _ was a total shitshow what in the actual fuck.  _

But now wasn’t the time for obscenities, not when the one most likely to nag her for her language was laying across her lap, resting. She didn’t go down without a fight either—Ava had to pull out the big guns. The puppy dog eyes and the little pleading voices! She had no idea how it worked, but it did, and Beatrice had awkwardly settled herself onto the makeshift pillow which was herself and eased that tireless big brain into some well-deserved rest.

_ Trust your team _ , Beatrice asked. She did. Ava let her gaze wander around the sparse living room—the safehouse was an old farmhouse along the outskirts of Italy. Everyone was resting now, even Lilith, and she was thankful that this time, the team was trusting  _ her. _

She kept watch, tiredness kept at bay by the buzzing halo nestled in her back, and didn’t even notice the hours slip by until she felt Beatrice stir from underneath her.

“You good?” 

“As good as one gets after what we’ve been through,” she replied in a voice laden with drowsiness, moving to push herself upwards but not before Ava could press down on her shoulder—softly—insisting she lay down a little more.

“Your legs are probably sore by now.”

“Super pillow powers is just another one of the halo’s perks, I’ll have you know.” Ava grinned.

And by the heavens, Beatrice smiled back. 

Beatrice had a bruise on her cheek, a cut on her lip, and likely an innumerable number of aches and pains which she wishes she could soothe away, even just a little bit. She wanted to touch them—to run her fingers along them and pray that whatever kept her alive and awake could extend itself into healing someone she cared for. She didn’t even notice that her hand was moving until Beatrice tensed up and nearly flinched, before immediately relaxing into the feeling of Ava running her fingertips along her forearm.

It was a soft motion, just enough to graze along the hairs with barely any contact across from the skin. She would run along the few scars revealed by the rare occasion of Beatrice in rolled-up sleeves, and when she closed her eyes in contentment Ava was unable to resist the urge to run her hand along her hair, scratching softly, enjoying the way the other woman leaned into the action.

“Is it okay?”

“Yes.”

Asking before doing is yet another thing she had picked up somewhere along the way.

“You’ve grown more dexterous.” Beatrice remarked, likely trying to pass it off as an even statement but failing to hide the tenderness along the end. “More careful. You were always flailing about, hitting furniture here and there in a simple trip to the kitchen.”

“Ugh. We need a major interior décor overhaul, I’ll tell you that.”

Beatrice chuckled. “Let’s not get started on you learning utensils.”

“Hey!” Ava chided playfully. “Low blow.”

“We did have to help you with nearly everything.” She smiled. “I suppose one could say you were…  _ spoon-fed. _ ”

“Wow.” Ava laughed, warmed at the display of familiarity and nearness. “Look at you!”

“But I meant what I said,” Beatrice hummed. Ava had moved up from her forearms to tracing the back of her hand, the indentations where veins lay and creases of her knuckles. She turned the hand over, running the pads of her fingertips along a calloused palm to the tips of her fingers. It made her shiver, this action of familiarization, and she felt the slow rise-and-fall of Beatrice’s breathing quicken into something nearly erratic. “This is… new to you.”

And suddenly Ava understood where she had learned.

Where she first felt softness caressing her face, and the careful steadying of a hand on her shoulder. She had picked up the habit of delicate care and meaningful looks and knowing when to speak and when to quiet, the art of soothing someone tired and overexerted into rest.

Her muscles recognized the actions which spoke, ‘you are safe’ and ‘I’ve got you’ through memories of being held the same way.

She ran her thumb reverently across the other woman’s cheek, now falling back into a slumber.

From Beatrice, she learned…

Gentleness.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! My first time trying for Avatrice, dipping my toes into the water. Hope it goes well - this show and the ship really pulled me in by the ankles I've gotta say.
> 
> Thank you to PyroTato for beta reading!


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